Burning
by paranoid
Summary: DG -- There's a fire that can never be quenched, that burns forever.


Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy and Virginia Weasley belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. I am using them without the permission of their creator.

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She hadn't meant to fall in love with him. No, when she had started walking this insane path, she had clearly told herself that falling in love with him was to be the last thing she would do.

But, for some inane reason, she had fallen for him. Fast and surely, her carefully constructed walls and detailed plans had crumbled and failed and she was his, whether he knew it or not.

And, of course, he did know. Because of who he was, he could read hidden emotions as quickly as Hermione could finish a book. It was a talent that he prized and used often. He'd told her as much when they had started their relationship.

_"I will know you, Virginia. You won't be able to hide things from me. You can try, but you will fail."_

She hadn't taken it at face value, had told herself that he was just bluffing her into believing him to be an all-knowing being. She had been very wrong.

He had cornered her in an empty hallway after the evening meal. He'd dragged her into an abandoned classroom and had locked the door behind them.

_"I know." _Was all that he said.

_"Know what?" _She remembered how her heart pounded, how it felt like it would burst if he _really_ knew.

_"You love me." _ He had said it acidly, like nothing in the world was more vile to him. She had started to deny it, but stopped when she met his gaze. Irrationally, she felt tears start to fall down her face.

_"I know."_ He whispered it, his face contorted in anger. _"I _told_ you I would know. I told you that you wouldn't be able to hide it from me. _I know._"_ She felt something inside herself crack.

_"I love you."_ She whispered it, too, only her voice was filled with pain and longing. _"I love you."_ She sank down to the floor, her legs unable to hold her anymore.

The door opened and closed, leaving her broken on the floor, sobbing declarations of love to a person who wasn't there.

+*+*+*+*+*+

That was the last time she had seen him, or at least been alone with him. She had looked for him in the hallways, in the Great Hall, wherever she thought she might catch a site of him. He hid well, but not well enough as her hungry, roving eyes caught site of him often enough to fuel the fire that was slowly consuming her. She was burning up, and the tears that she shed almost every night did nothing to stop the slow, inexorable burn.

It was a long time before she was able to bank the fire, to keep it to embers and sparks. But when she slept, it would blaze into its full glory and tear through her dreams. There, words were spoken that would never reach her ears. In the bittersweet unconsciousness, she would revel in the pleasures of a touch she had known for only a short time.

And when she woke up, she would again cry.

It was years before she could hear his name and not cringe. It was years until she could see his picture in the paper and not feel desire rush through her, leaving her weak and terrified. And it was years before she was willing to admit that she had made a mistake falling in love with him.

When he finally came back into her life, the fire that had burnt for a decade was almost dead, merely pinpoints of heat half-smothered by ashes and soot. His eyes did nothing to rouse the flames; his body didn't make her blaze up in passion; his voice slid through her like wind, making whirlwinds of half-forgotten memories stir and settle again.

It was his mouth -- those smooth, soft lips -- that added fuel to the dying flames. When he'd kissed her, devoured her, the fire had flickered, burst into painful life, and began, again, burning Virginia Weasley up from the inside out.

She was consumed, drowning, flying, free. Heat slowly coursed through her, achingly sweet and forbidden. His lips tended the flames, and when they finally left hers, gave the fire another log to burn away.

_"You are an idiot, Virginia. You didn't learn then. What have you done to me, Weasley?"_ He kissed her again, his lips pulling her deeper into the bonfire within. She broke the kiss and pushed him away, her hands blistering on his skin.

He was her flame, and burning to death had never felt so sweet.

+*+*+*+*+*+

Authors note: Yeah, I know it's not a real ending, but I didn't think I could finish the story with a traditional "The End" type thing. So, you get jacked instead. Not much work really went into this. I kind of just threw it together and gave myself the go ahead. Not beta'd, merely proof read by yours truly. Amazing, ne?


End file.
